We Were Never Perfect
by Convenient Alias
Summary: But we came a lot closer than this. Oneshots/drabbles on the beautifully dysfunctional relationship between Eva Heineman and Kenzo Tenma. Currently: "Eva laughs, throwing her head back at an angle that she knows makes her hair look glamorous. 'See, now you're objectifying me.' "
1. Dark

Eva woke up with a gasp. What a terrifying dream. She had been alone, and Kenzo had been gone. She had rejected him coldly, and then he had rejected her when she had begged for him to take her back. But that was untrue, wasn't it? Kenzo would never leave her. He would always forgive her no matter what she did.

In fact, here he was, lying next to her in the darkness, only half awake, his body warm and comforting. She put her arms around it with a satisfied murmur, and felt him snuggle closer to her in response. Good. Where he should be.

He felt skinny, almost bony. That was wrong. She shouldn't be able to feel his bones through his muscle and fat. He was probably working too hard again, maybe not eating too much, which was wrong. What right had he to starve and misuse his body, which now belonged to her?

"You belong to me," she murmured in his ear. She knew he hated when she got possessive of him, but she couldn't help herself. Kenzo was hers; she needed him to be hers. He was her perfect treasure.

She heard him mutter back, "And you are mine, Eva."

She stiffened in his grasp.

The voice was rough with sleep, and she could almost have mistaken it for Kenzo's, but the way he pronounced her name was so different. Kenzo said it fondly, liltingly; almost unsure of whether he should call her "Heineman-san" instead even though they were fiancées. He was the shyest person Eva had ever known, the only person she had ever known to hesitate to respond when she spoke.

The voice, on the other hand, was loving but not fond. It was a passionate whisper, an adoring whisper. A possessive whisper. And possessiveness was one fault Kenzo did not possess.

She knew with sudden clarity, her sleepiness gone, that the man next to her was not Kenzo. It was her husband.

Her husband, a rich doctor who worked at a completely different hospital. Her husband, the man whose smile at her was almost smug, not embarrassed. Her husband, the man who never overworked himself and was thin because he played a lot of tennis and wasn't Kenzo-sized. Her husband, who didn't patiently forgive her time and time again because she never gave him reason to. Her husband, the man who didn't know her.

He felt her stiffen and pulled her even closer, his arms wrapping around her, strong and suffocating. She pulled away with an angry, frightened strength, breaking his grip.

"Hm?" he murmured. "Eva, is something wrong?"

"Go back to sleep," Eva said coldly, unable to even pretend affection for this man who was not Kenzo. He was too drowsy to tell the difference anyways.

She went to the kitchen. There, seeming to wait for her was a bottle of champagne. Her best friend had given it to them as a celebratory gift for their first anniversary, only two days ago.

He'd been happy at the anniversary party they'd held, kissing her and laughing with her, even if he had spent most of the time talking to his friends. He'd been happy because he loved her, and she still mistook him for Kenzo when she was half asleep. And the worst part was that she didn't feel sorry at all. She was only sorry that the delusion had ended. If only she could have deceived herself for a few more minutes, she could have pretended to lie awake next to Kenzo again, feeling his chest rise and fall as he slept.

She poured the champagne into a glass and drank.

AN: I am using a list of one word prompts to write stories about Eva and Tenma's frankly dysfunctional relationship, mostly from Eva's point of view. The prompt for this particular drabble was "Dark." I considered writing something creepy and worthy of being a Monster fanfiction, but then this idea struck with me, so I just went with it. Hope you like.


	2. Sympathy

There's a bullet in her leg that makes it impossible for her to walk, and she's leaning against a tree because she needs something to put her weight on and she doesn't want to lie down because she still has her pride. She might die in a few minutes and she'd rather do that sitting up.

Oh see how the mighty are fallen, she thinks viciously. Once you would have been fine with dying lying down, in bed, peacefully. And now you have to be proud and in pain, because your pride and your pain are all you have left.

There's a kid kneeling next to her.

Really, what is a kid doing here? Roberto could shoot him. He's heartless enough to shoot a kid, she thinks. Though she's not really sure. You wouldn't have to be very heartless to shoot her. It would be an act of mercy and an act of justice to kill the pathetic, cruel, hateful creature she's become. But the boy, the boy should not be here because he could get hurt.

She realizes that she's thinking of the boy as more than herself, and wonders if this is how Kenzo felt when he said all lives were equal.

Probably not.

She doesn't think she has the capability to feel an emotion that Kenzo would feel. He is good and he is pure, and she is rotten. Probably she always was and just didn't notice it. She wishes the alcohol would wash it away.

Which reminds her that she would really like a drink, except she shouldn't swig beer in front of kids anyways and there is a kid kneeling right there next to her! He should run, run quickly and tell Kenzo that Roberto is here and will try to kill him, but mostly he should just get out.

He isn't listening to her.

He's saying silly things. Tenma will come, Tenma will save them, she just has to wait because Tenma will surely save her too, and he's a doctor so the shot wound won't matter.

Kenzo's a doctor, she thinks, but he's also a man and he's a man that she's hurt so he won't come. If he comes, she won't be able to bear it. Here she has almost gotten him killed and she has tried to get him arrested and withheld information that could save him and cursed his name every other time she drinks (when she isn't begging him feebly to come back and imagining he hears her) and he would probably want to help.

He's an idiot. She can just picture him, looking at her clinically, examining her leg which hurt like nothing she's ever felt before except maybe her broken heart, and seeing how thin she's grown and the circles under her eyes and her ratty hair and dirty clothing and asking her if she was all right.

She could bear his scorn, because she has scorned him. His hatred because she has hated him. His anger because he has made her so, so angry time and again. His cruelty would be fine because she knows how often she's been cruel.

Maybe, possibly she could even bear his love because her own love burns like a fire in her chest. Maybe one fire could put another fire out, or at least heat her equally so she didn't feel hot and cold at the same time.

(Or was that just wooziness from blood loss?)

But she knows very well that there is one thing she cannot stand from him, one thing that she could not bear to see on his face because she doesn't deserve it because she's never felt it for him, all she's ever wanted is to own him or see him in jail.

Sympathy.

The boy is yelling for Tenma, and he's talking to her and trying to keep her from passing out. Tenma will come, Tenma will save them, she just has to wait because Tenma is a great doctor and he will heal her wound like magic and she will be all right. She isn't sure how much he says and how much she imagines but a part of her wants to believe it all.

* * *

AN: This drabble is Eva's POV on a scene from the anime. So...yeah...Reviews, please? The prompt this time was Sympathy.


	3. Broken

The glass falls and shatters on the floor.

What is Tenma doing here?

She's at home, drinking beer because she doesn't care enough to bother to buy wine, and certainly she thinks about Tenma enough when she is doing such things, but it's never conjured him up before. Also, he's supposed to be on the run from the police, which she had set on him herself. So what on Earth is he doing in her living room?

He steps forward and picks up some of the fragments from the glass on the floor. "You're going to have to be careful not to step on them," he warns her.

"Kenzo," she breathes out. It's not a word, it's not a statement, it's an exhalation, a little bit of his essence escaping from her mouth where she had put it with the beer.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"What are you doing here, Kenzo? What are you doing in my house?" She hears her own voice crack. He used to make her calm, but that's not true anymore.

"I know you don't want to see me."

Ha. Then why is she drinking so much alcohol again, if not to hallucinate his presence? Of course she wants to see him, but she doesn't want to face him. She'll end up screaming and being nasty, or maybe apologizing with puddles of tears, or maybe just running away. She tries so hard to keep her dignity these days, at least a little bit of it, and seeing Tenma breaks her down.

He puts the fragments of glass down on her tea table, the one too small for any practical purpose, and says, "Even if you don't want to see me, I have to talk to you."

"Really?" she sneers. "You didn't seem so eager a few months ago." She's doing it wrong, accusing when she should be apologizing, or should she? She doesn't know what to do. He confuses her too much. What she does know is that a few months ago he walked away from her, willing to be chased by the police just to avoid her, saying he had too much work to do and then disappearing entirely, and it all hurts.

Tenma's eyes narrow. It's hard to remember that he's not the boy she used to date. He's a real man now, who won't just sit there and listen to her rants and insults. He's a man who doesn't like her, and she can tell that he doesn't want to talk to her any more than she wants to talk to him. Probably less.

"I have to warn you," he says firmly. "Johan is dangerous. He might target you, and you should know what you're involved in."

"Oh, Johan," she says with annoyance. She should deny his existence like she did with the police, but the alcohol makes her not want to bother. "Why would I be involved with a murderer?"

Tenma says, a hint of desperation in his voice, "Your father was one of the men he killed, the director of the hospital no less. You knew about his existence while he was in the hospital because he got me demoted. You're part of the police investigation of his murders, even if you want them to catch me, not him. He kills witnesses, people who know about him. He kills pretty much anyone he wants to, any obstacles in his way."

"His way to what?"

"I don't know!" Tenma exclaims. "But it doesn't matter! He could kill you, Eva. You need to be prepared."

"There's no real reason for anyone to kill me," Eva says calmly. Inside she thinks, I saw his face. That would be enough.

"IT DOESN'T MATTER!" Tenma explodes. "I don't understand why Johan kills people! Half the time there seems to be no reason at all! He could kill you just because he wants to, wants to kill more people, wants to get into my head!"

Eva is shocked for a moment. But not at the outburst, because she knows her lover used to have a temper. "It would upset you if he killed me?"

"It would upset me if he killed anyone," Tenma says. But he hesitates. He would never hesitate to say such a thing, but he did.

Does Tenma still love her? Is that why he is worried? It's a nice solution for her dazed, wistful mind but logic like that only comes with alcohol. With a clearer head she could find another reason for his words, no doubt.

She says, "Don't worry about me, Kenzo. I certainly don't worry about you." She laughs. "Did you know that I told the police I didn't know who Johan was? Did you know I told them lies to frame you for his crimes? I hate you, Kenzo. Go away."

"Eva," he pleads. "Be careful."

"Why?" she demands, furious now. "I don't care if I die. A person like me, my life is worthless."

He comes closer and, gently touching her, he tilts her head up. He doesn't kiss her, but then he never did that very much and of course he wouldn't now. Instead, he starts stroking her hair, a soothing motion.

His voice is low and calm. "Eva, all lives are valuable."

"Is that all you can say?" she whispers, near tears. She doesn't want his sympathy because she is a member of the human race and she likes the human race. She wants him to love her, only her, just her, especially her, not just as another ant on the globe but as his own Eva.

He doesn't answer. His hand is still in her hair and she takes comfort in it. If she is forced to accept his love as just another ant on the globe, then she will. That is how pitiful she is.

A tear slips out of her eye, but she ignores it, not even brushing it away. She whispers, "Be careful yourself, Kenzo. Your life is very, very precious to me."

* * *

AN: This story does not fit in with canon, but oh well. I have no apologies. Only please don't expect every story in here to be as long as this. They're called drabbles for a reason. Also, reviews are much appreciated.


	4. White

Eva did not often wear the color white. It went badly with her hair, her complexion, and her sense of style. She'd rather wear black, or red, or purple, or blue, or maybe even yellow which doesn't suit her any better than white does. It's a blank color, a color with no character at all.

So naturally, when Tenma gives her a present pretty much out of nowhere one night when they're out for dinner, she is surprised and slightly horrified to discover that it is a white shirt. In her size, but that part's not the surprise because she has seen Tenma looking through her wardrobe before, even shown him shirts herself just to get his (usually terrible and useless) opinion, and he has always been the analytical type so she's not surprised he took note of the size. What's surprising is the shirt itself.

Not only is it white, her least favorite color in clothing, it's not even fancy. It seems to be a simple cotton blouse, with buttons and a neat collar. There are no frills, designs, or anything to make it fancy. It is quite frankly the dullest shirt she has ever seen (except the one Tenma wears from day to day. That's duller.).

"Well, this is a surprise," Eva says, trying to sound at least slightly pleased. She fails, but Tenma looks pleased with himself anyways.

"Did you think I'd forget?" he says proudly. "It's the two-month anniversary of our first date. I couldn't take the day off, but I thought I could at least buy you something."

Oh great. Of course Tenma wouldn't forget-he's fanatic about dates and such-but she had forgotten herself. Now she's going to look selfish because she's accepting his gift but has nothing to give in return. Annoyed, she snaps, "Why this?"

Tenma looks a little sheepish. "Well…um…you like clothes. So I thought you might like a shirt. I wasn't sure where to buy one for you, though."

Well that much is obvious. A plain shirt like this, you could not get at the stores Eva goes to. Their goods cost quite a bit of money, but they look far more stylish, and they are not made of cotton. Except when they are. And even then, they are still more stylish.

"It's very…simplistic," she says as politely as she can. She's been going out with Tenma for two months, and he doesn't seem to be turned off when, once in a while, she insults his taste or talks to him with biting sarcasm, but she still doesn't like to do it. It does not suit her image as a lady. She knows Tenma likes that image.

Tenma looks worried. "There were some fancier shirts there, with ruffles and…things…but I didn't know if you'd like them. They looked a little overdone."

She gets the feeling that he has never once looked at the clothing she wears. Which is never as understated as this. She grits her teeth and says, "It's not my normal style."

"Yes," Tenma says droopily. "I know." Then suddenly, as if a bolt out of the blue has struck him, he sits straight up. "Ah, but perhaps that is a good thing! If it is not like the rest of your wardrobe, then every time you wear it you will remember that I gave it to you."

"I could never forget," Eva says wanly. If she even keeps it in her wardrobe, she'll end up wincing every time she sees it. It offends every ounce of fashion sense she possesses.

Tenma is looking at her nervously. "So, uh…"

"What?" she demands. Tenma can never just speak up. He is so shy that she has to half drag what he is thinking out of him. It drives her mad. Maybe, since it is the two month anniversary of their first date, it would be a good time to break up with him. Even. Clean cut. She considers it, but decides not to do it here, at least. It's an expensive restaurant, one she enjoys going to. Tenma might end up making a scene of begging her to stay with him, and she doesn't want that scene to happen here.

Oh. Tenma just said something.

"Hm?" she says.

"I was thinking maybe you should try it on now," Tenma repeats. "To see if you like it."

To see if she likes it. Like she needs to try it on to know that! Still, Tenma has an eager sort of look in his eyes, and he is paying for tonight's dinner, so she nods and heads off to the bathroom to change.

* * *

AN: One of those rare stories where things are actually going to end better than they look-Eva does not break up with Tenma for at least another year or so (not sure how long exactly) and in fact they end up getting engaged.

Reviews, anyone? I would appreciate it.


	5. Fragile

Kenzo's arms are strong and warm in their grasp around Eva. She holds him as well, but her embrace is not quite so tight. It's all right. There is no need for her to hold onto Kenzo too closely; after all he has no intention of slipping away.

They're so close together that her face is pressed into his shirt, but they are not doing anything, not even talking, just standing there. It's something you can do when you're in love with someone. Eva takes a deep breath, enjoying Kenzo's scent. He's not sweaty, and he does not smoke or drink, so there is nothing foul about the odor, although there is a little waft of hospital disinfectant to it.

It can't be helped, she supposes.

"Kenzo," she whispers.

Kenzo, who was burrowing his head into her shoulder until now, lifted his head up and moved back a bit, still holding her tightly but giving her enough room to talk. "Yes?"

"Do you know why people hold each other when they're in love?" she murmurs, her voice a mere thread of sound in absolute silence.

Tenma sighs. "Because we like being close to each other, I suppose. I like having you near, Eva. Having you in my arms feels right."

"Silly," she chides him. "I wasn't talking about us."

"Oh? You weren't?"

Kenzo sounds surprised, in a hazy, distracted kind of way. Eva rolls her eyes. "Well," she admits. "Maybe I was a little. But I'm trying to be philosophical, Kenzo. Give me a hand."

Kenzo shrugs. Sometimes he is a philosophical man, when he talks about morality, about how he believes in the equality of all lives and the sacred duty of a doctor to save as many lives as he can. When it comes down to love, though, he is so very simple. He shows his love with actions mostly, not words, and thank goodness Eva is smart enough to read his actions or she would feel quite unappreciated. She still does sometimes.

But right now she is thinking about love in general, not about Kenzo. She says, "I think people hold onto each other when they're in love because they know love is fragile."

Kenzo's brow creases.

"They realize that at any moment their love and their relationship might fall apart," she explains. "So they cling onto each other physically like they can somehow grasp the other person's emotions. Isn't that pitiful?" she ends with a roll of her eyes.

"Eh," Kenzo says. "Maybe. Isn't it natural to want to hold onto the thing you want to keep?"

Eva laughs, throwing her head back at an angle that she know makes her hair look glamorous. "See, now you're objectifying me."

"Ah, am I?" Kenzo gasps. He gets nervous so easily. "Sorry. I assure you, I see you very much as a person."

"Not as a teddy bear?" Eva retorts. He's still clutching her in those arms of his, and she would have thought that with the conversation they are having he would have been distracted and let go by now. Eva's arms are already at her sides.

Kenzo gasps again. "Oh, sorry. Am I crushing you?" He loosens his grip, but he doesn't let go. Kenzo apparently is very determined to maintain physical contact with her tonight. He's in a strange sort of mood.

"Like you're strong enough to do that, idiot," Eva snorts. She twines her arms around him again. "It's all right. I intend to keep you too, you know, my dear genius."

About five years later, Eva is halfway through drinking her second bottle of wine when she remembers this conversation.

She laughs and laughs and cries and laughs.

* * *

AN: I felt depressed in the middle of my NaNoWrimo...it had been so long since I'd posted anything or had anyone read my work. So I decided to post this, a drabble I wrote a while ago and kind of like. Hope you liked it too.


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